


Turned To Dust

by magnetar



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, hux catches feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 03:53:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14127507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnetar/pseuds/magnetar
Summary: Kylo Ren takes the Battle of Crait as a personal failure. Hux helps him find a little peace and begins to realise he might have feelings for his new Supreme Leader.





	Turned To Dust

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for @hurtkylofest on tumblr, for the day 14 prompt sleep deprivation. I'm going to start moving my favourite fics I've posted on tumblr over here. You can find me @magnetvrs. I hope you enjoy!

Ren takes the Battle of Crait as a personal failure, Hux can tell. Ren wears his feelings on his face the same as his scar, raw and vivid, so it’s not difficult to see how the Battle has affected him. Just the wild look in Ren’s eyes as he’d commanded the troops and officers to leave the sector after sweeping the old rebel base had shown how pained he was. Hux had listened politely to Ren’s words, unable to summon his usual satisfaction at Ren’s failure. There was something about his pained expression and the way his hand never unclenched as if he was holding something in his palm that made Hux _feel_ something far from satisfaction or anger at Ren’s pain. Something soft and fragile that he refused to examine, as he’d turned on his heel and boarded his shuttle. 

Hux hasn’t seen him since, but he takes that as a relief – the less of Ren’s illogical fantasies he has to endure the better. Except that Hux spends so much time thinking about Ren that it’s almost as if he’s not even been gone. Even more worryingly it’s not just about his plans to overthrow Ren and take his place as Supreme Leader. Hux also imagines he can rile Ren up in equally imagined conversations, the insults he can aim at Ren without showing his disloyalty and the expressions that might cross Ren’s face as Hux is talking to him. Hux thinks about that he lot.

He’s kept himself busy and useful aboard the Finalizer again, even without the pressure of Ren’s gaze. He’s dealt with resupplying the ships and reorganising the supply chains, and now he’s itching to execute the First Order’s next move against the Resistance.

‘The Finalizer will lead of course,’ he explains, almost allowing a note of excitement to slip into his voice. He manages to contain it, keeping straight-faced and looks around the table at the rest of his officers. They avoid his eyes except for Peavey who frowns at him. Hux sighs.

‘We can’t make a move without the approval of the Supreme Leader, General,’ Peavey says, sounding as if even acknowledging Hux leaves a bad taste in his mouth. It makes Hux’s eyebrow twitch with annoyance. He knows Peavey has never liked him, ‘jealous of my superior intelligence’ Hux thinks, but here he cannot fault him on this at least. Despite his own ambition Hux knows he can’t make his move to overthrow Ren so soon - he is not naive enough to underestimate his power. To not ask him about this would reveal Hux’s plan and ruin his advantage.

‘Quite correct, Captain,’ Hux is careful to keep any emotion out of his words, to make them as icy as possible. But of course, Peavey is not intimidated and continues to stare back at him, his jaw clenched. ‘I will ask the Supreme Leader myself,’ Hux continues, rising from the table and sweeping his greatcoat back onto his shoulders. Partly he doesn’t trust any of the rest of them to explain his plan correctly to Ren without fear of Ren’s temper, and partly he… isn’t quite sure except that Ren’s absence weighs heavily on his mind.

Hux almost feels relieved, once he’s found Ren and Ren has reminded him how much he hates him then maybe he can stop thinking about him. But he tries the intercom of Ren’s quarters five times before rolling his eyes and entering his manual override, only to find that Ren isn’t there – despite Hux carefully checking the crew schedules to check that Ren is off duty. He steps back into the corridor and grabs a passing Stormtrooper who manages to look alarmed despite being covered from head to toe.

‘FN-3156 said they saw the Supreme Leader in the training room, General,’ the Stormtrooper had mumbled. Hux allowed himself a few more moments of satisfaction at the way the trooper trembled like a caged animal, before letting them go.

Hux himself had never been to the training room before. It seemed demeaning, to exercise where anyone could see him – he was able to keep himself fit enough with a few stretches inside the privacy of his own quarters. And there was also the fact that he knew Ren spent most of his time there when he was off duty, probably half-naked and covered in sweat. He allowed that thought to linger a little longer in his mind than he should, before shutting it off in disgust.

He takes a deep breath and goes over the plans in his head once more, running his hands nervously down his tunic to check for any wrinkles before stepping inside. He feels foolish for being so nervous, after all, he’s seen Ren thousands of times and faced down much worse than one over emotional fool.

The training room is plainer than Hux had expected. It is no more than a bare space with various equipment ready to be used in one corner and it startles Hux in a strange way, to find out he doesn’t know his ship as well as he’d thought. But his attention is caught up in Ren. He stands in the centre of the room surrounded by training dummies that have been sliced into pieces. It’s quite impressive, the sheer number that litter the floor. And more importantly, Hux allows himself to think as he feels a blush blooming on his cheeks, so is the broad expanse of Ren’s pale back flexing as he props up another target.

‘Supreme Leader,’ Hux says, mentally shaking himself and forcing himself to look away from Ren’s body. The silence is deafening, the padded walls stopping the sound of the rest of ship entering the room. Ren turns slowly to face him as if he’s only just noticed that Hux is there. Ren’s hair falls in greasy strands over his face, hiding his eyes from view and Hux hears himself gasp at what Kylo has in his raised hand. Hux’s hand automatically reaches for his pistol, but he manages to crush the urge, flexing his fingers instead.

‘General,’ Ren’s voice is low and hoarse as if dulled by overuse although Hux hasn’t received any sheepish noise complaints from his officers, as is usual when Ren is having one of his tantrums.

‘Ren..-Supreme Leader,’ he’s quick to correct himself, heart pounding. Even such a small slip up could cost him dearly with Ren’s unpredictable nature, his tendency to punch first and ask questions later. But, Hux observes, it seems to have the opposite effect. Ren’s expressive face brightens for an instant on hearing his name before it closes off again, eyebrows pulling downwards and lips flattening into a hard line. ‘I need your approval for our next move against the Resistance. My plan is-,’ Hux begins to say, forcing back the jitter of nerves.

‘You have my approval,’ Ren says, cutting Hux off mid-sentence. He feels his teeth clench, that little flame of anger that Ren is so good at igniting in his chest flickers and he’s about to snarl an insult back at Ren when he looks Ren up and down, _really looks_ , for the first time since Crait. Hux has been so caught up in his own schemes and anger that he hasn’t noticed how exhausted Ren looks, until now. Ren’s hair is greasy and untidy, falling in strands over his face to conceal how sunken his eyes look, ringed with circles so dark they could be mistaken for bruises. Even Ren’s pale skin has a sickly tone to it, looking overly sweaty and clammy.

‘How long have you been here?’ He does the mental calculations, how many cycles he’s spent on the bridge and how many in his quarters working and catching sleep where he can. ‘Kriff Ren, it’s been 3 days since Crait,’

Ren doesn’t move, watches him with half-lidded eyes. He’s shaking, Hux notices, his wide shoulders and his hand on the hilt of his training sabre shuddering. Hux can’t help the smirk that pulls up the edges of his lips at Ren’s weakness, despite the way his stomach churns. Ren has always been a force of nature, far beyond that mystical power he’s so attached to, there’s been a storm in his eyes of anger and revenge. Now, Hux can see, he seems barely able to hold himself upright.

‘I failed,’ Ren’s voice is quiet, ‘My mind was so clouded with my desire for revenge, I didn’t even realise Skywalker’s deception. I failed.’ The training sabre clatters to the ground and a moment later Hux leaps back with a squawk that he will only be embarrassed about later, as Ren follows it with a louder thud.

For all that Hux hungers for power, the ultimate power, he is also afraid of being alone. He looks down at Ren’s lifeless body for a moment, a sick sense of déjà vu in the back of his mind. His pistol is in the pocket of his greatcoat again. The thought passes his mind for a second before he pushes it away. Not this time. He sinks to his knees beside Ren and hears a soft sigh.

‘He’s fallen asleep,’ Hux realises, ‘he literally fell asleep on his feet.’ He would laugh at the ridiculousness of the Supreme Leader of the First Order acting so childishly as to neglect himself to this extent if it didn’t make his heart thump so painfully. He knows he can’t leave Ren here as much as he knows that there’s no way he can move Ren himself. So he does the only thing he knows how to, he inflicts pain. He takes a handful of Ren’s ridiculous mane of hair and pulls. Ren rears up in pain and Hux is honestly surprised that his own neck is still intact. Ren really must be sleep deprived.

‘That’s woken you up,’ Hux smirks, getting to his feet and holding out his hand. ‘Come on let’s get you to your quarters, Supreme Leader. We can’t have anyone seeing you like this. The First Order would crumble,’ he feels a little foolish after all, Ren hasn’t asked for his help. But then who else does Ren have?

Ren’s quarters are surprisingly bare for someone so vulnerable to emotion, Hux had expected an array of knickknacks – Sith artefacts and personal tokens of Ren’s victories. There is the (rather morbid, Hux thinks) buckled helmet of Darth Vader on its pedestal and that is it, not even a fresh tunic laid out on the standard issue bed. It disturbs Hux, even his quarters have a fresh uniform laid out on the chair, his datapad on the desk and a tin of his favourite hair gel. There is no sign of Ren here, no sign of any life at all.

‘Kriff Ren, you’re heavy,’he snarls, shouldering Ren’s pliant body onto the bed. He straightens up and watches Ren laying there for a few seconds like a beached starfish. He’s ready to leave, to hurry back to his own quarters and try to forget this strange evening despite the way his heart squeezes, but Ren’s eyes find his. Dark and pleading. Hux sighs and rolls his eyes.

‘I’m not your personal slave. I bow to nobody,’ Hux says, his anger letting the words slip past his usual mental barriers. Ren barely seems to notice though, his breathing deep and even as his eyes slide closed. And anyway Hux finds himself sinking to his knees and untying Ren’s boots anyway, slipping each one off and lining them neatly along the side of the bed as he does with his own.

He gets to his feet again and allows himself to watch Ren’s sleeping form for a moment. Ren is still broad, powerful and imposing as he sleeps but there’s something softer about him – all of the brooding tenseness is gone from his jaw and shoulders.

‘Hux,’ Ren’s voice is unmistakeable. Despite his weakened state manages to raise his hand to clutch at the sleeve of Hux’s coat. Hux knows what he means, what he needs and despite their outward dislike of each other, he finds himself strangely willing to indulge Ren. He takes Ren’s hand in his own while he toes off his own boots, before laying down beside Ren. Ren looks back at him for a moment, his dark eyes wide and clear before they slip closed and he exhales, his breath tickling against Hux’s neck. In a moment of his own weakness Hux gives into to the urge prickling the back of his neck for _closer, more_ and presses his forehead to Kylo’s.

‘Sleep now,’ he says softly, allowing a little of his native accent, _his mother’s accent_ , to colour his words. Hux is not a soft man but he knows the burden of pain. Kylo makes a little, contented humming noise and inches closer, looking softer than a Supreme Leader should be able to.


End file.
